Fascist Hearts Bleed Red
by valdia
Summary: 15th Century Hallow Bastion is in the middle of a revolution as the people try to overthrow an oppressive regime. Axel, a key leader of the resistance hates everything the monarch and their family stands for but once he's on the inside he faces the unfortunate reality that even the son of a dictator is still a human...just like him.


Chapter One

Roxas paced the span of the family library thumbing over the spines of the books; his mother told him she had been disappointed by his lack of knowledge in respects to the kingdom he was one day supposed to rule, so he set off to the library to research his heritage. Though he had been forced into the library he didn't hate it, studying gave him something to do which was a good thing, and it was quiet there. Roxas took deep breaths finding comfort in the dim lit room, the ceiling extending far above his head reaching to the skylight that currently displayed the gray storm clouds looming overhead.. The still and deafening silence was enough reason for Roxas to study this country's history for years. Everywhere he went people fussed, and yelled "prince" all the time, the soldiers disrupted everything and his mother thought that any the time was a good time to send his unwanted future wife his way.

Deep in the heart of Hollow Bastion Roxas's father ruled with no mercy, Roxas admired and feared his father. But what Roxas feared even more than his father was the fact that one day his father's reign would end forcing him to ascend the throne. The pressure weighed heavily on him each day but lately the pressure seemed even greater. Not just for him, but the entire royal family, because there were whispers of a revolution, whispers of revolts, and day by day the whispers grew louder and louder and it was only a matter of time before they turned to screams. While Roxas studied his predecessors in the silence of the ancient library, rain poured down in heavy buckets rinsing away the blood of resistance.

Roxas' father Cloud sat upon his stallion on a hilltop while his men valiantly rode through the woods; they were looking for the vermin that scattered throughout the woodland in fear of death, the vermin they needed to exterminate immediately. Cloud's blond hair hung down in tufts sticking to his fair skin, drenched with rain. His blue eyes scanned through the forest with an intensity fueled by his hatred for the bastards who even dared to think of defying his rule, the rule that had been rightfully bestowed on him at the death of his late father. Crowned at the mere age of 17, he was the youngest king known to date and he ruled with an iron fist. If he ever got his hands on even one of these supposed revolutionaries…

His thoughts were interrupted when Zack; his second in command, came confidently riding up the hill on his strong black steed. "Sire, we've located some of them, they are on foot and our men have begun pursuit," he said breathlessly.

"Show me," was the blonde's haste response

Zack quickly turned his horse around with a fierce yank of the leather reigns heading right back down the hill that was becoming slicker due to the incessant rain Cloud stayed close behind, the sounds of battle increasing as they drew near. Once they reached the bottom Cloud could see them scattering as his men rounded them up.

"Do not kill them all!" yelled Cloud using his most authoritative voice. "We will take prisoners," he announced with a satisfied smile.

"Yes. We will take prisoners," he said again in a much softer voice to nobody in particular. Zack's eyes flitted over to him for just in time to catch the devious smile still fresh on his lips.

He looked onward as many of the traitors fought with his men, sword to sword and hand to hand but Cloud had little to be worried about, or so he thought until one large rebel appeared seemingly out of thin air. He took down soldier after soldier while barely breaking a sweat, Cloud was prepared to intervene when Zack stepped up.

It happened so fast, he never stood a chance.

In the blink of an eye, Zack rode up behind him, withdrew his sword and sliced his head clean from his neck. Cloud let out a roar of laughter with water pouring down on him as the head itself flew up in the air and landed back down into a muddy puddle with a resounding splash, blood still gushing from the remainder of the limp body as it lay on the ground berated by rain and trampled by horses. His boisterous laughter rumbled from the deepest pit of his body as he rode deeper into the woods, his horse splashed through the puddles of mud fighting to keep its footing on the slippery grass. Cloud's men rounded the trees to speak with him.

"What do you want us to do next your majesty?" questioned one soldier.

"Where are my prisoners?" asked the blond.

The man cleared his throat. "We have not managed to capture any your highness…you see they put up such a fight it was…it was nearly impossible to imprison them."

The edge of the king's lip quivered into a snarl.

"Excuses," he muttered snapping his fingers, and on cue the man directly behind him slid a blade into the back the soldier Cloud had now deemed useless through the thin space on his armor. The shock was evident on his face as the light left his eyes and he fell lifelessly to the ground.

"Prisoners!" he growled at the soldiers standing around him. There was no time to process the fact. One of their own had just been murdered by another soldier, one he probably regarded as a brother but they had been given a task by King Strife VII-and that was law.

"Split up into three battalions. This is not a war of numbers but a war of intelligence. We are smarter than these traitors. Kill who you must, but we _will_ take captives." yelled Zack to the small army. He looked back to Cloud for further confirmation but the blonde simply nodded, with a primal scream Zack quickly descended the hill with the men following him. With military precision they separated into equal groups of roughly thirty. With no regard to their surroundings they brutally slashed through bushes and trees to find the enemy.

The rebels were at a clear disadvantage seeing as the King's army was on horseback while they were all on foot, Once a rebel was spotted it was nearly impossible for him to escape, many were unfortunately—or fortunately depending on your outlook-killed by impatient soldiers; it was Zack who did most of the capturing. The dark-haired man got off his horse and gently stroked its long nose. It brayed unhappily as the rained continuing pouring in sheets.

"Shh girl, it's okay. A little rain never hurt anybody."

He looked back at his prisoners that were all tied up. Bound individually by their wrists and ankles but tied together by one long rope which was attached to a large tree that towered over them all. All of the precautions were unnecessary seeing as the will of these rebels was gone, they had been captured by the army of King Strife, they were sure that death was imminent.

"Move, and I will dismember you, one extremity at a time. You will beg for death and I will show no mercy," he said with a deathly glare.

Zack brushed back his wet hair out of his face as he looked around. It was silent and instead of making him reassured that they had successfully defeated the rebel army it just made him concerned. The silence seemed to be a preamble for disaster. He looked around once more taking slow steps as he paced the densest part of the forest. Yes, he was in their territory now, the rebels knew the landscape much better than him but he showed absolutely no fear. As he walked he felt a rain drop but instead of the frigid water that had been falling, it was warm—body temperature. By the time he had realized the strange liquid was blood and not rain it was too late. The treasonous man had jumped off the highest limb of the tree and onto his back. Zack landed face down in mud and struggled to move the body off him.

"You filthy-" Zack hollered with unbridled rage.

"Long live the revolution!" screamed the man with flaming red hair turning over the solider and punching him in the center of his face.

He kept punching the second in command relentlessly with years of pent up hatred and resentment. Several of Zack's soldiers came to the scene drawn in by the loud screams. Two quickly dismounted their horses and grabbed the rebel by his arms. Zack was still on the ground fading in and out of consciousness One of the largest soldiers—Angeal, grabbed the boy by his bright hair tearing him off his Zack's body. He kicked him directly in the middle of his back shoving him to the ground, he dragged him to a puddle forming nearby, four or five inches deep and forced his face into the filthy water holding him by the back of his head. The rebel fought to get his mouth away from the water flowing into his nose, finally, he was released and he fell back only to feel a swift kick to his side. He screamed out in pain as he was sure the thick heel had broken a rib. Other soldiers had gotten Zack to his feet but he was still disoriented. Once the soldiers had gotten their fill of beating on the redhead they tied him up separately and brought him and the other prisoners to Cloud.

As they marched up the hill the group of prisoners hung their heads low whispering dirges; images of mass execution filled their brains. Taken to the gallows, shot by King Strife himself with a single bullet to the head. The most morbid envisioned slow torture that included castration and starvation—unfortunately for them his thoughts would be the most accurate, death would seem merciful in comparison to what they would soon be forced to bare. The rain hadn't let up at all making the path compacted with mud, the feet of the soldiers sinking with each step, it was worse for the prisoners whose shoes had been removed upon capture. The redheaded traitor was still tied up separately held by two soldiers—one on each arm. Despite the harsh imprisonment he still fought, he struggled and kicked and scratched as they dragged him to the king. Cold, wet, and tired the soldiers had long ago grown weary of beating him and instead just pulled him forward ignoring his screaming and resistance.

"Kill me if you want! I will be a martyr, the people will rise and your empire will fall. You...you...BASTARDS! Either kill me now or kill yourselves later. When I escape you will pay the price; your head on spikes...your children murdered. Then, you will know, you will know the agony," he screamed over the clapping of thunder.

His words could have incited a riot, in a different time, in better weather conditions, but here he was ignored, his voice drowned out by the rhythmic clopping of horse shoes and by the weeping of the men who wanted nothing more than to hold their babies one last time. After waiting for nearly 45 minutes Cloud had ordered his page to bring back a carriage for him to sit in away from the freezing rain and it's fierce winds. When the soldiers finally reached the mountain top they were exhausted and disgusted by the one rebel who refused to be silenced. As Cloud saw them approach he stepped out of the carriage while the page stood behind him holding an umbrella. The chain of prisoners was handed over to the battalion that had returned nearly an hour earlier. The self proclaimed martyr was kicked to his knees forced to bow at the feet of the king

"Why is he separate, why is this one special?" inquired Cloud looking him over.

He gave us problems your liege, lots of problems," said Angeal.

"Where is Zachary?" he asked looking through his men.

Two soldiers stepped aside showing the second in command, at that moment he only had a blueish bruise under his left eye. The rain had rinsed away the blood from his broken nose, the true extent of his injuries wouldn't be revealed until he was at the castle's infirmary.

"He did that?" he asked pointing to the rebel while looking to his soldiers.

"Yes Sire." said Zack. "He may have landed a blow or two but overall-"

"A blow or two?! You lying son-of-a-bitch. If your little lackeys hadn't appeared I would have killed you. I could have destroyed you right then and there. I showed mercy on you, you useless foot stool."

Angrily Zack advanced towards him but was stopped by a raised hand from the king

"See?! You're nothing but a servant, why waste my energy on you. You're a glorified pet. A lap dog who willingly receives the scraps of the king. "

Zack snarled but obeyed the orders given to him.

Cloud chuckled to himself. "I see why you are separated. You are a problem." he said with a slow nod.

As the King looked him over he couldn't help but admire the rebel's ambition and resolve. He could tell he was young, not much older than his son, but wise beyond his years; the fighting had made him tough. A fleeting thought came to mind but the King swiftly dismissed it.

"Forward." said Cloud turning his back on the redhead getting back in his carriage .

The other battalion was now in charge of the group of prisoners holding onto the drenched rope. The redhead refused to be held and so he walked with tied ankles and tied wrists behind two soldiers. It had been hours and the rain was still as strong as when they had left that morning, perhaps even stronger. It made their limbs numb, it was hard to see and they were going and they were nearly a mile away from the palace. The separated fighter had finally stopped his screaming and kicking and walked along the way he was supposed to. Exhausted, they all trudged forward just trying to get it over with. The extended time in the awful conditions had lead them all to let their defenses down, naturally the redhead took this opportunity. He slowly removed the dagger from the waist-belt of the soldier in front of him with stealth and patience remaining undetected. He held it close to him for several minutes ensuring that the prohibited weapon was not seen. When he believed he was safe he quickly bent down and sliced the ropes around his ankles before sprinting into the forest.

"He's escaping!" yelled a panicked soldier from the back of the march.

Zack headed off after him. From the window of his carriage Cloud could see all that was happening. He demanded he be let out, the carriage quickly stopped and his sword was handed to him.

"Which way did they go?" he asked his men angrily.

They all pointed in the direction that the two men had ran off to shaken by the harsh, almost evil voice that Cloud had as he ran off clutching his sword tightly. His feet roughly pounded the flooded grasslands that lead back to the forest. Determined, Cloud ran with incredible speed, he hated all the traitors as a whole before but now this foolish troublemaker had just made things personal. He would never let him die, he would keep bringing him to the brink of death and just when he thought it was over he would bring him back and torture him further. Cloud internally agreed with his magnificent plan while continuing his search for the redheaded runaway. He didn't want his men interfering, he wanted to be the one to capture the idiot. He saw a quick flash of his bright red hair and with a growl he veered in that direction. As he rounded the trees he found himself in a clearing; Zack was there and so was the rebel.

"He's mine!" shouted the King demanding that Zack stand down. Infuriated Zack allowed the blonde to have his way and angrily sheathed his sword and watched as his king ran past him across the field after the treasonous boy. He growled to himself tightly gripping the hilt of his sword as he paced in the rain. In his mind, he envisioned tearing him to shreds, chopping off that unnaturally bright hair. He hissed still pacing as he waited for the king and the prisoner to return. Cloud had spotted him in the clearing and continued after him like a hawk hunting prey, the rebel was fast but Cloud was faster and quickly gaining on his heels. The labored breathing of the two created puffs of steam in the ice cold air as they kept running. The boy's stamina was running low while the king was still full of energy. With only inches between them the monarch drew his weapon slicing the redhead across his back cutting through his soaked shirt and piercing his skin, the blood bubbled to the surface and he let out a shriek from the pain as he collapsed on the ground his palms gripping at the blades of grass trying to ignore the intensifying pain.

"Fuck you! Fuck. You! You are Satan himself,." he growled with his head down.

"I am the direct decedent of greatness; and you are scum." he said digging the heal of his mud covered boot in his open wound.

He screamed out again as his entire body was lowered to the ground. Cloud grabbed him his bound wrists and pulled him to where he had left Zack.

"I don't know whether you are brave or foolish." he said as he handed him to his right hand man.

"Keep a close grip on this one Zack." he said looking him over once more.

With a sigh and nod he grabbed the traitor and pulled him along back through the clearing and the trees. Finally the two rejoined the army.

"He rides with me." said the king firmly snatching the captive by his wrist.

The other prisoners groaned in jealousy watching as the worst behaved of them all was rewarded with a warm ride back, albeit to his doom but it was still a warm ride.

The redhead sat beside the king with his hands folded in his lap.

"I'm trying to decide what would be the best course of action for dealing with you. Simply killing you wouldn't work but just torturing you would serve no purpose. What do you suggest."

The rebel remained silent.

"Hmm, quiet, I suppose there is a first time for everything."

Axel averted his eyes.

"You are a fine soldier-you have a strong will and I like that. I believe you will make for an interesting project,'' he said.

As they came up the drive of the palace the trumpets sounded announcing their arrival. Roxas put down his book and raced to the window watching as his father came in. He furrowed his brow at the hoard of people being brought in behind him tied up like cattle, dragged by soldiers. He walked out of the library hurrying towards the staircase to see what was happening. Roxas descended the wide marble steps, his hand gliding down the polished railing. The soldiers stomped leaving dirty tracks across the shiny floor. Lady-in-waiting-Tifa stood by the wall with her arms crossed watching in dismay as the sparkling floors were destroyed by uncaring soldiers. The queen Aerith came out as well at the sound of the fanfare, it was then that she noted the prisoners that were tied and bound. They surely would be executed, tortured or both. From across the large entrance she saw Roxas watching.

"Roxas, upstairs." she said not wanting her son to be privy to the awful sight of bloodied rebels.

The blonde angrily glared at her.

"When it comes to knowing the middle name of every gray haired corpse that's ruled before me the information of this kingdom is of the utmost importance, but when present turmoil is right before me I'm sent upstairs like a child."

Tifa watched on as the two bickered forcing back a smile.

"Away." said Aerith to the Lady-in-waiting who reluctantly exited.

"You are too young Roxas, upstairs." she said once more.

He angrily turned back away heading upstairs determined to see what was happening no matter what his mother said. He waited on the third floor of the palace, the floor that belonged to only him, biding his time until he could go downstairs and see the events taking place in his castle. When everything seemed silent he walked back down the wide marble steps; the entrance was empty. Roxas nodded to himself before rounding the corner. At the back of the wide steps was a small entrance way blocked by a heavy steel door, Roxas had only been down the passageway once but he knew that whatever was taking place he would surely find answers there. He yanked the heavy handle with all his strength and still it just barely squeaked open, there was no need for a lock on the door. Anybody who didn't belong down there wouldn't dare venture into such a dangerous place. Despite Aerith's attempts to shield Roxas from the violence of their kingdom he knew about all the horrific deeds that took place in the castle's own prison. He walked down the dark stairwell, there were no lights until you reached the bottom, at the end of the narrow steps was the enormous hall full of holding cells that took up the entire bottom of the castle. Weeping and wailing was heard from every corner but far in the distance Roxas heard fighting. He followed the sound, his feet clicking on the cold cement, prisoners trembled in fear and shrieked at the sight of Roxas, mistaking him for his father. As he reached the end of the hallway he found himself at the origin of the loudest screams in the prison.

"You are nothing, understand?!" a deep voice bellowed followed by the sound of flesh on flesh.

Roxas winced hearing the person receiving the beating hiss.

The door was already cracked, Roxas simply opened it a bit wider to get a better view.

"You will beg for death, and I will still say no. And just think-when he gets his hands on you his taste for blood will grow and..." Cloud growled with his hands around the throat of his new favorite rebel.

Roxas stared on with wide eyes, he had never seen his father delivering corporal punishment, only heard stories.

He reeled back his fist sending a sharp blow to the gut of the redhead boy.

"Sire!" shouted Zack.

"What?!" he questioned obviously annoyed.

Zack nodded in the direction of Roxas; the king smiled.

"Good Roxas, its good that you're here, come in," he said beckoning his son.

The heir hesitantly stepped into the room, it was freezing cold and filled with the overwhelming metallic smell of blood.

"I was just breaking in your new gift, a personal slave," he said smiling brightly. ''I think it's time you truly step foot into the vicious world of war,"he said wickedly.

He roughly grabbed the boy by his red hair forcing him to stare directly at Roxas.

"This is Axel. Axel, this is Roxas. Meet your new master."

Blue met Green, and the rebel spit in the face of the prince.


End file.
